Jesus fucking Christ. Maybe I should’ve taken the fucking President’s cottage.
“This better be good,” JD snaps. “I was having the best dream.”
“I can fucking tell.” Vender chuckles. “Can you point that thing in another fucking direction?”
JD looks down, obviously spotting his hard-on, and just shrugs, hiding the fucking thing with his hands as both Abbey and Jols giggle.
“What do you need, Vender?!” I call, and JD steps aside so Vender can see in.
“We have a problem,” he grumbles.
“We have a lot of fucking problems,” I mutter. “Which one brings you to my door at fucking sunrise?”
“Tups is gone, and he’s taken Spud and Banes with him.”
32
Standing outside the shipping containers, I take in the carnage Tups left behind.
One man dead, one fighting for his life, and two stirring from their concussions.
“How the fuck did this happen, Lewy?” Ringo snaps at his IT guy, who shrugs, his eyes wide with panic.
“The cameras didn’t pick him up leaving his cabin.”
“He went out the window,” Mex calls as he rounds the corner, heading our way. “I just checked it out. The door is locked, but the back bathroom window is wide open.”
Ringo’s glare shifts back to Lewy. “So how didn’t you spot him on any of the cameras?”
“I dunno, Prez. I’ll check over them again, but I really didn’t notice anything.” Lewy takes off his cap, running his hand through his dark hair in distress.
“Check them again,” Ringo barks and points to Mex. “Go with him. He needs a second pair of eyes. He’s fucking exhausted.”
Mex nods, leaving with Lewy, and I move to the container Maggie is in. Looking through the peephole. She’s huddled in the back corner crying, her wide eyes trained on the door like she’s waiting for someone to come in.
As Ringo checks on Murf and Teddy, who are sporting the concussions, I move to the next container to get a look at my mother.
The light inside the container is flickering on and off, and my mum keeps glaring at it like the light is doing it on purpose.
“I was in and out after he hit me over the head,” Murf mutters, drawing my attention, and I turn to see a trail of blood running down the side of his face. “But I heard enough. Tups was going to free the mum and kid too, but Banes told him not to. Said they’d just slow them down.”
My brows shoot up.
Huh, does Priscilla know that her daddy dearest ditched her?
“How long ago?” JD snaps right next to Murf’s ear, making him groan, his hand coming up to his temple like he has a pounding headache.
“The sun was rising. That’s all I know.”
“They can’t have gotten far. Check to see if any vehicles are gone, and get every fucker out of bed,” Ringo orders. “I want them manning the perimeter.”
“Got it.” JD claps right before barking orders into a handheld radio.
I take a step back, trying not to get in anyone’s way, watching my husband so naturally step into his role.
I wonder if he realises that he was made for this. To lead. To govern. I feel like he’s been doing this sort of thing for a long time. Making sure things got done when his role was the Sergeant-at-Arms.
Gunfire sounds from the thick treeline across the clearing, and I stiffen, half expecting bullets to spray our way as JD barks into the radio.
